Chapter Text
The loud ambiance of the bar distracted from anything that could be on anyone's mind. Especially Mike’s. He came here to distract himself, he needed a lot of that lately. He slowly sipped his beer, trying not to think of what brought him here, or rather who brought him here. Maybe bringing him here isn’t the best phrasing. He’s trying not to think of the person he’s here to find.
Mike had taken some time, not immediately going to college. He decided to write, write what he knew. He stayed in Hawkins for a very long time, compared to the rest of the party. There was graduation, then the rest of June and July, then August came and everyone left. Suddenly, Mike was all alone again, just like that first day of Kindergarten. Except this time, making new friends isn’t as easy as finding some boy on a swingset.
In his time alone he reflected on the years of his childhood. All the time he and the party had stripped from them. They had their childhood taken right out from under them and they barely noticed how much they were losing. Of course they knew they hadn’t lived a normal childhood, but it took Mike until the summer after graduation to realize how much they had lost. They spent so many years fighting these monsters, just for the rest of Hawkins to blame it all on earthquakes and random events. That’s why Mike decided to write it all out.
At first it was just to regulate his emotions, to recount everything that happened. He was almost remembering it all as he wrote it down. It somehow had turned into a book, one he was now planning on turning into a series, as he’d only barely covered about one fifth of the journey in defeating these monsters. It was a thriller series. Mike couldn’t help but laugh, a thriller it was, you didn’t have to tell him that twice.
The book was published 3 years after they graduated. It was incredibly quick. Mike knew this and was happy, and he hated to admit it, but he was proud of himself. It was a hit with audiences. Captivating, exciting, interesting, heartbreaking, shocking, heartwarming. Those are just some of the words that had been used to describe the story that Mike made up. That’s all it was to everyone, a made up story on why friends and family are so important. On grief even, and relationships. Whatever it was, to everyone but Mike, and the party, it was made up, play pretend.
So here Mike is, sitting at a random bar in New York City, somewhere he swore he wouldn’t go, especially knowing he was here. But a longing had come over him, for his old friend. And when he got an offer at the worst (or perfect) timing, he knew he had to take it. A book signing in the Big Apple would be a dream for any author, he knew this, he had to take it and he had to appreciate it. But he couldn’t because what if he was here. It wasn’t too far of a reach, and Mike knew that. He also knew he probably should’ve reached out to him but he couldn’t. While they weren’t on bad terms, it also wasn’t the best terms.
Mike decided that drinking was the best way to calm down from these thoughts overwhelming his body. Even just a beer or two, then going back to his hotel to stay out of the way. It was Friday night, so he’d probably go exploring tomorrow, then the book signing was on Sunday. He doesn’t know why he got here so early. That’s a lie, he knows exactly why he’s here so early.
And when Mike suddenly hears his name from across the bar, or what sounds like his name he suddenly turns to face the entrance. There he stood
“Will?”